Perfect Two
by nerdyfanchick
Summary: In which the author takes every line from "Perfect Two" by Auburn and writes a corresponding ficlet. Lots of pairings, currently including prucan, gerita (x2), spamano, usuk, sufin, and fruk
1. You can be the peanut butter to my jelly

Okay so I really love this song and I'm a dork, so this is a thing that's happening. It'll be with a whole bunch of pairings (Including both usuk and fruk, just in case anyone was wondering) and I know for the most part what pairing I'm using for each line. There are like 3 undecided lines, so you can make suggestions for those if you want.

Groans because this is really really short, but I really wanted to write prucan. Okay so basically in this AU Gil has never had PB&J for some reason so as a totally awesome boyfriend, Mattie has to introduce it to him.

Enjoy or whatever.

* * *

Gilbert Beilschmidt and Matthew Williams sat at their kitchen table, a single plate placed in front of Gilbert, a single sandwich on top of it.

"Peanut butter and jelly?" Gilbert poked at the offending sandwich, causing it to leak strawberry jelly, "You sure this is edible?"

Matthew rolled his eyes at his boyfriend's antics. "Don't tell me that _the_ awesome Prussian is afraid of a little sandwich. How haven't you had one of these?" Gilbert shrugged in response and Matthew continued "Not having a PB & J sandwich is almost as bad as not having pancakes—wait, I introduced you to those too."

"Shut up. It's not like I've never had jelly. I've just only eaten it on toast, and not with this weird peanut butter stuff."

Matthew cocked his head to the side in confusion, "What's toast?"

"Mein Gott, birdie, you say _I'm _the sheltered one. Look, you take bread and-"

"Never mind, we can solve the mystery of toast later. Just eat your freaking sandwich."

"But Birdie~"

"But nothing, eat it, hoser."

"Fine, fine," Gilbert roughly grabbed the sandwich (making a quick note to self that roughly grabbing sandwiches filled with jelly was a bad idea), taking the dreaded first bite and…"Birdie, This is delicious!" The rest of the sandwich was devoured within seconds.

"Mmhm," Matthew picked up the plate and brought it to the sink, "Told ya so. Where would you be without me?"

Matthew felt Gilbert wrap his arms around him and leaned back with a contented sigh.

"I don't think I'd ever want to find out," Gilbert nuzzled his lover's neck, "Ich liebe dich, Mattie."

"Je t'aime trop, Gil."


	2. the butterflies I feel in my belly

Rather basically, Ludwig is a poor awkward baby and the BTT helps him out

* * *

Ludwig had consulted every medical book he could find, but he had yet to discover why his heart pounded and his gut twisted when he was around Feliciano.

Ludwig sighed and shut the book he had been reading. The mere thought of the Italian that he had begrudgingly befriended was enough to provoke his symptoms. Maybe it was an allergy, but he sincerely hoped not; he had come to be rather fond of his bubbly friend. Still, he did want to find out what the problem was. His eyes drifted to the basement door, from which muffled rock music could be heard, and thought of how bad of an idea it would be to consult his older brother.

It would be horrible.

But it just might get him an answer.

With that hopeful prospect, he went up to the door. The music itself was almost enough to get Ludwig to give up, but he would not abscond. He steeled his nerves and knocked heavily, "Er, Bruder?"

After a few seconds of scuffling, the door opened a crack. "Hiya West! Kesesesese, what's the password?"

"You don't have a password, Gilbert."

"Correct! Francy-pants, turn down the music!" Ludwig was roughly pulled into the room as the door slammed behind him. This was definitely a bad idea. "Guys, this is mein kleine Bruder, West- "

"My name is Ludwig."

"-and he came to hang out with us! So, whaddya need? Smokes? Piercings? A fake ID? Porn?"

"No! I just…" Ludwig sighed, bringing a hand to massage his temple, "Look, I just wanted some advice but if you're not going to be helpful then-"

Once again, Ludwig was pulled around, but this time he was pushed onto Gilbert's bed as the three boys surrounded him, "Westy, I'll give you the most awesome advice ever! Tell your favorite brother what's wrong~"

"You're my only brother."

"And your favorite! Now, spill."

Ludwig squirmed silightly under the older boys' gazes, "Well, recently when I've been around Feliciano-"

"West and Feli are dating."

The blond nodded, "Ah, so he's the 'Luddy' that Feli is always talking about."

The brunet leaned forward to examine Ludwig, "He doesn't seem as bad as Lovi says he is."

"Feliciano and I are _not_ dating!"

"Was?" "Quoi?" "Que?"

Ludwig's felt his face redden, "We are not dating. Do you want me to tell you the rest or not?"

"Fine, go on."

"So, when Feliciano and I are hanging out—don't look at me like that, _we aren't dating_—I've noticed that I've contacted symptoms akin to that of an allergic reaction and I wanted to know what you think I should do."

"Oh Lutz," Gilbert plopped down onto the bed and slung an arm around Ludwig, "Poor, naïve West, tell me, does your heart feel like it's going to fly outta your chest?"

Ludwig's eyes flickered between the grinning trio's eyes, "Yes…"

"Oh, oh," The brunet bounced in his seat, "Do you blush a lot?"

"Er, sometimes?"

"And finally," The blond's grin grew in size (and possibly became a bit more malicious, but Ludwig really couldn't tell), "It feels like there are millions of butterflies in your stomach, oui?"

"Exactly! So do you know what's wrong?"

"'Course we do! You're in love, West~"

"Was‽ But We're just friends!"

"Duh, and you're obviously in love, so you two could become more then friends," Ludwig slammed a hand into his forehead at his brother's eyebrow wiggling, "Now, get outta my room, take out your phone, and get yourself a cute Italian!"

"Buena suerte!"

"But if you hurt Feli, Antoine and I will have to kill you~"

And so, with those wishes of good luck and death threats, Ludwig was shoved up the stairs and out of Gilbert's room. He pulled his phone and dialed the number he knew by heart.

"Ciao?"

"Feli, um, would you like to go out sometime?"


	3. captain and I can be your first mate

The one where Spain plays dress up and Romano is annoyed.

* * *

Lovino Vargas wiped his brow as he pushed yet another box of trinkets to the side. When he had agreed to help Spain clean his attic, he didn't think it'd be so much _work._

As he opened another box, he yelled, "Why the hell do you have so much junk up here anyway?"

When he didn't get the expected bullshit response of "It isn't junk, Lovi~", his head shot up. But not because he was worried that Antonio had hurt himself or anything, he just wanted to make sure that the bastard hadn't left him to do all the work. Right.

"… Spagna? Where the fuck are you?"

After a few agonizingly silent moments, Lovino heard several boxes falling and a voice called out, "Over here, Lovinito! And you won't believe what I found~"

Lovino subconsciously let out a sigh of relief and stood, walking towards the sound. "Idiot, I told you to stop playing arou-" The spiel died in Lovino's throat as he saw Antonio.

"Can you believe I still have this? And it still fits too! Not that it wouldn't, since I haven't grown that much and I don't think I'm putting on weight, but still, it's really cool, dontcha think?"

For once in his life, Lovino was at a loss for words. Antonio was decked out in a long, flowing, obnoxiously red coat and a tricorne hat, complete with a ridiculously huge feather—also in bright red. Adding that he was leaning on his old battleaxe, still shiny and embellished with delicate golden designs, Lovino thought he looked absolutely, breathtakingly handsome. Er, I mean, Lovino thought that Spain looked really stupid and not at all attractive. Right.

When Lovino was finally able to tear his eyes away, he cleared his throat and said, "Stop playing dress up and get back to work. I didn't come over here to clean your whole fucking attic by myself."

"But Roma~ Boss looks cool, and it doesn't really need to be clean up here, right? We could play dress up together! It'd be super fun~"

"I'd rather eat Eyebrows' cooking. You can stay over here and act like a fucking bambino, while I actually get shit done."

Lovino turned around to leave, but his way was suddenly blocked by a surprisingly sharp axe. "Pero, mi amado," Antonio's whispered, his breath ghosting over Lovino's neck in a way that did not threaten to send shivers down Lovino's spine at all. Right. "It would make me really happy, and you want to keep boss happy, ¿si? ¿Muy por favor con azúcar en la parte superior?"

Lovino was stuck between a rock and a hard place (Although, he wasn't quite sure which was which. He was leaning towards Antonio being the rock because _hot damn _those muscles were fucking rock hard, how much did he even work out- er…), so he sighed and turned to face the Spaniard, attempting to ignore both their close proximity and the rising temperature of his face, "I don't really have a choice, do I?'

"Well, you could try to escape. I always have loved the chase~"

"Bastard. Fine, I'll play with you."

Antonio squealed—honest to goodness squealed like a fucking kid in a candy store—and hugged Lovino, "Yay! I think I saw some more crates of clothes over here somewhere…" He let go to quickly kiss Lovino on the nose before rushing off to find more clothes, "I knew you'd see it my way, querido!"

Lovino stood, shocked for a few moments as his cheeks continued to flush akin to his beloved tomatoes, then, "You bastard! Did you just _kiss _me? What the hell! Get back here!" and he was off, chasing after Spain in the huge attic.

* * *

Oh Spamano, how I love thee.

But seriously, I really abused tildes in this chapter and I sincerely apologize. Theyre one of the 4 things I overuse in writing (the other three being the words "really", "super", and "flush").

Next up (and it's already posted~) is "You can be the chills that I feel on our first date" with a continuation of poor awkward Ludwig and Feli.

I guess I should do translations, right? You really shouldn't need many, I mean it's given that you should know that Spagna means Spain and bambino means baby and si obviously means yes, but here you go for the harder Spanish-y parts (Note: I translated these myself using two years of high school Spanish, but if I'm wrong, tell me!):

Pero, mi amado: But, my love (really, amado is just an endearment and it can technically mean dear or darling too I think)

¿Muy por favor con azúcar en la parte superior?: Pretty please with sugar on top.

Querido: Dear (this is the one I will always use for dear but I'm p sure there are other words too)

Hope you enjoyed! Fav, follow, review, comment, etc~


	4. chills that I feel on our first date

The one where Ludwig continues to be really awkward

* * *

There were not many things that scared Ludwig Beilschmidt.

It was something he had pride in. He had always been the one to "save" Gilbert from "monsters" in the dark; the one to never shy away from a challenge.

But, standing on the Vargas' porch—nearly ten minutes early for his date, mind you—holding a bouquet of daisies, Ludwig was completely terrified.

It wasn't like it was his first date, but he'd never been on a date with someone that he consciously really _liked. _He had no idea what to do. Did he knock or ring the bell? Was he supposed to compliment Feliciano when he picked him up or later? Was he supposed to pick out Feliciano's meal for him at the restaurant? It was all too much. Maybe he should just go home and say he came down with the flu or something.

Just as Ludwig had decided to just leave, the door burst open and Gilbert's brunet friend—Antonio, he remembered—came running out, dodging tomatoes that were most likely being thrown by Lovino.

"Adios, mi corazón~ I'll see you tomorrow!" Antonio turned around, ignoring the rapid Italian yelling behind him and noticing Ludwig, "And tell Feli that his date is here!"

Before Ludwig had time to panic, Feliciano was attached to his arm, babbling about how he had worried about Ludwig being late or hurt or something of the sort.

"Er, there was no reason to worry, Feliciano, I'm fine. If you would let go then we could get to the movies, since it starts soon."

"Oh, sure! We wouldn't want to be late, since I know how much you hate being late and everything. Are those pretty flowers for me? Oh Luddy, you didn't have to!" He gladly took the daisies, spinning happily away from Ludwig and towards his car, "Well, actually, you kinda did have to since Lovi and nonno said that's what you were supposed to buy me and if I came home without any then they both probably would've been really mad at you—well, I guess, Lovi would've been a bit madder at you then usual—and I don't want that because I really like you and if they said that we couldn't be together because they were mad then we'd have to become star-crossed lovers like in Romeo and Juliet and I really don't think that dying would be any fun, don't you agree?"

Ludwig blinked, his brain attempting to process the river of words that had just been spoken. "Um, yes?" He breathed a sigh of relief when Feliciano laughed in response, going off on some other tangent, and started driving towards the theater.

Once there, Ludwig was met by another set of problems. The first of which was solved easily by Feliciano skipping up to the counter and just getting snacks for them, but the second was much worse.

After they were settled and the movie had started, he noticed that other couples had their arms around each other or—and Ludwig blushed brightly at the thought of he and Feliciano doing this—were _kissing_. And in a public place! Unable to focus on the movie itself, Ludwig occupied himself with thinking weather or not Feliciano would like it if he wrapped his arm around him, and how he would even go about doing it in the first place (His mind brought up and disregarded Gilbert's advice of fake yawning, leading Ludwig to wish that he had actually paid more attention when his brother was trying to council him. Maybe then he would've known what to do). Or, he was, until Feliciano started nuzzling into his arm and his body naturally responded by moving his arm around the Italian.

Needless to say, Ludwig thanked every deity he could think of for reflexes.

The rest of the movie went by eventlessly, and although there was a few slight moments of panic at the restaurant, Ludwig thought the date was going well and that he might actually get through this alive. Until they arrived back at the Vargas' house.

He walked Feliciano up to the door, like he had seen in the few romantic movies that he had watched, but then came the goodbye.

"So… I really had fun tonight Luddy, we'll have to do this again!"

"Ja, um, soon."

And they stood in awkward silence, Feliciano rocking on his heels and Ludwig wondering if it was possible to die from embarrassment.

"Oh, Luddy," Ludwig looked up from the speck on the porch that he had been staring at into Feliciano's huge amber eyes. "It's okay if you kiss me, you know. Really, I would've thought that you'd studied dating techniques and whatever so you could 'be prepared' and stuff, but I had to initiate _everything._ I mean, its okay since I still like you and I still had fun, but still you could've at least-"

"Feliciano."

"Si?"

"Please stop talking."  
"But why- mmpf!" Feliciano was cut off by Ludwig as he pressed what was intended as a chaste kiss to his lips, but as Ludwig tried to pull away, he was stopped. "Nuh-uh, I finally got you to kiss me, you're not getting away that easily~"

And, in that moment, Ludwig wasn't sure if he wanted it any other way.

Okay, just imagine Germany as an incredibly awkward junior who's had this super obvious crush on Feliciano that literally everyone else noticed since they met in like 6th grade but is just now realizing it, and the Germany you envision will be about half as awkward and dorky as I originally had Ludwig in this chapter. I've toned down the overly awkward ooc Germany for your sake, as to avoid too much second hand embarrassment. But yeah, I have the lovely headcanon that Feli is so much smarter then he lets on (which may or may not be canon, I mean Hima said that Feli is only lazy and really "slow" when he doesn't have motivation) so here you also see Feli steering the date away from disaster as Luddy just flounders around.

I loved writing this, even though writing for Ludwig is literally painful and I have to get up multiple times from second hand embarrassment, but I still love him~

Next up (POSTED IN THE SUPER POSTING OF 10/1) is "You can be the hero, I can be your sidekick" with some Halloween usuk (with surprise appearances from the rest of the British Isles!)

And hey, if you didn't read my last author's note, there's a poll on my page for what pair to do for a later line, so vote on that if you want~

Hope you enjoyed! Review, comment, fav, follow, etc~


	5. the hero, I can be your sidekick

The one where Arthur is pushed into trick-or-treating

* * *

It was Halloween.

There was a twinge of excitement in the air even as the street lay empty, a calm before the storm of costumed children to come. All was silent.

"ARTIE, OPEN THE DOOR!"

…Well, almost silent.

Arthur opened the door to see Alfred F. Jones, dressed as Sherlock Holmes—and not even the original, but the modern BBC creation—on his knees, hands clasped, with the second best puppy dog eyes Arthur had ever seen. "Whatever it is, the answer is no."

"But Artie, it'd be awesome and we'd get tons of candy! If not for me, do it for the candy, dude!"

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, "I am sixteen years old, Alfred. I have neither the time nor the desire to run around and collect candy with you."

"But you did it last year and-"

"Shut up, idiot!" Arthur cried indignantly, a light blush resting on his cheeks, "You guilted me into that and if any of my annoying siblings find out then I'll never hear the end of it!"

Alfred nodded and Arthur thought he might've seen some malicious glee flash across his face, but Alfred would never-

"Of course, we wouldn't want ALISTAR to know!" Arthur blinked in disbelief. Was this self-proclaimed hero really going to force him into it again? "It would be horrible if ANY OF YOUR BROTHERS OR EVEN CARLIN CAME DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!"

Arthur groaned as his older siblings stampeded down the stairs, pushing Arthur out of the doorway.

"Hey Jones," Carlin high-fived the American, "What's up?"

"Nothing much, but Artie won't go trick-or-treating with me, even though I'm dressed as that weird detective guy he likes."

Dylan examined the costume, "Didn't he wear a weird hat and coat or something?"

"No one cares, Dyl," Seamus rolled his eyes, "The real question is why Art won't go in the first place."

"It's childish and I don't have time for it."

Carlin slapped her brother on the back, "As if you don't do childish things all the time," she paused, clearing her throat before doing a rough imitation of Arthur's voice, "'Oh flying mint bunny, uni, faeries, you're the only ones who really understand me!' Seriously, a kid your age havin' imaginary friends is a bit more childish then trick-or-treatin', dontcha think?"

"They're not imaginary and I do not sound like that!" Arthur yelled, his face flaming, before he regained composure. "And I'm not going."

"Oh, brother dear, why must you always be so difficult?"Alistar sighed melodramatically, turned back to Alfred, winking, "We'll have 'im ready before you can say 'delicious scones'!" and closed the door.

True to their word, Arthur's brothers were shoving him out the door less then five minutes later, in a hastily thrown together John Watson costume, telling him to "Have lots of fun and get lots of candy!"

"One day," Arthur growled out as Alfred pulled him down the street, "I'll curse you all. Then I won't have to waste my evening doing such childish things."

"Come on, it's not a waste if we get to spend time together right?" Arthur flushed pink, spluttering slightly. Did Alfred really value spending time with him that much?

"Plus," The cowlicked blond continued with a wink and a finger gun, "You get to be my super cool sidekick!"

Arthur flushed, out of both embarrassment and rage, "Watson isn't a bloody sidekick, idiot!"

* * *

Okay, a note on the British Isles.

Alistar is Scotland (you probably got that one, it's pretty consistent fandom wide), Dylan is Wales (I ready don't know, I looked it up and this was the first name I found), Seamus is Northern Ireland, and Carlin is Ireland (I really like Ireland as a girl okay do you know how hard it was to find a female Ireland name)

I have so many headcanons for them and I just wish I had the motivation to write a fic about the Kirkland family ugh.

But I digress. The "last year" that Alfie is talking about is referring to the Halloween strip because my perfect moirail reminded me of the usuk moment in there. Also, Alfred is dressed as Benedict Cumberbatch's Sherlock because he tries so hard to impress Arthur but when it comes down to it, he ultimately fails because he knows nothing about British culture/ television shows/ books and its really sad actually.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter, as I really enjoyed writing it (but ugh there's so much dialogueeeeeee) and I finished it before the last two chapters, even though I should technically be working on these in chronological order as to when I have to release them.

Next up is "You can be the tears that I cry if we ever split" and it will be some nice sad fruk with a potentially happy ending. It should be done by next Wednesday but I really don't know (I have Homecoming coming up so I have to get ready for that and find shoes and nail polish and money and jewelry so I won't be working on any more writing after I finish the ones that come before this one)

Review, comment, favorite, follow, etc~


	6. tear that I cry if we ever split

The one that was supposed to be angsty fruk but is actually angsty sufin

* * *

"Yo-you're leaving?"

The servants had been packing up his stuff for weeks now, but Finland had refused to believe it. But now, as he stood in his front hall in the middle of the night with a blanket draped across his shoulders, he had to face the truth.

The truth was that Sweden wasn't strong enough to keep fighting off Russia. The truth was that Sweden was pulling out of the war. The truth was that Sweden had intended to let him to wake up alone.

"S'rry."

Finland looked at his toes. He couldn't look up. Looking up would mean acknowledging how _tired_ that Sweden looked. How _utterly defeated_.

"You don't have to be. I'm just a bit… surprised."

He wasn't surprised. Upset, betrayed, hopeless, _heartbroken_; there were a thousand words to describe what Finland was feeling and none of them were anything close to surprised. This was expected. Unwanted, but expected nonetheless.

"Cant you…" Finland fumbled with the words, the _feelings_, "Can't you wait, at least until morning?"

Sweden shook his head and Finland's heart plummeted. "I h've t' go now. I've b'n h're too long alre'dy. 'Nd I th'ught… I th'ught it'd be easier if I was g'ne b'fore you woke up."

"I-I see. Well, you should at least take some food with you." Finland forced on a smile and ran back to the kitchen, wrapping up some of the leftover deer before returning to the hall. "Here. It'll be cold, but it's better than nothing, right?"

"R'ght. Th'nks."

Sweden's facial expressions were barely noticeable, but Finland had known him long enough-had loved him long enough-that he could tell that he was smiling slightly. He could also tell that he was close to tears, but his decided to ignore that.

"Goodbye, Berwald." He clung to Sweden, hoping, praying, wishing, that everything would be okay. That Russia would give up and that Sweden could stay and that everything could go back to normal and it would be just him and Sweden forever. But Finland had learned long ago that wishes never came true.

"G'dbye, T'no," Sweden pulled away, and Finland pretended not to notice the tear sliding down his cheek, "_Jag kommer alltid att älska dig_."

After kissing Finland on the forehead, Sweden was gone, face glistening with silent tears. In the aftermath, Finland sunk to the ground, buried his head in his arms, and sobbed.

* * *

Okay so that was sad. I've never written angst or sufin before, as I'm sure you can tell.

I actually did (minor) research for this one, and Sweden finally gave up their claim to Finland in 1809 after years of war with Russia, so I thought I could exploit this and finally get around to writing this.

Also, I'm super sorry that this took so long, I couldn't do the fruk and then I just couldn't write because of APUSH (don't take AP US History kids, it's horrible) but I got ht by a car on Friday, so I had a bunch of free time where I couldn't leave my bed and my mom refused to let me use my phone, and I decided to put it to good use.

The one Swedish phrase that is said at the end means "I will always love you" and is Google translated.

The apostrophes in Sweden's speech are completely random and I'm sorry if they annoy you.

Next up (Posted today!) is "You can be the rain from the cloud when it's stormin'" with actual fruk.


	7. rain when it's stormin'

The one where it rains during France and England's date

* * *

"Well, at least it's not the worst date we've ever been on, non?"

"This _isn't_ a bloody date, frog."

England and France sat on a bench, huddled beneath an umbrella as they prayed that the rain would die out soon.

"Oh, of course,_ mon lapin_," France rolled his eyes, "We just went on a completely platonic walk in the park after having a completely platonic picnic together. _Obviously_ not a date."

England scowled-although the effect was ruined by the fantastic blush that spread across his face-and punched France. "Don't call me 'your bunny'," He hissed, and added as an afterthought, "And shut up, you wanker."

"You wound me, _Angleterre_, but," France purred, leaning in to whisper to his companion, "we both know that I'd never have to be a 'wanker' with someone as eager as yourself around."

After an indignant squeal of "Git!" from England and a pained yell from a suddenly soaked France (Who had most definitely deserved it), the two settled into a semi-comfortable silence. At least until France ruined it.

"Ever been kissed in the rain, _mon cher_?"

England, who had been very much relaxed, jumped slightly and scowled more, "No, you idiot, that kind of thing only happens in romance novels and corny movies."

"Well then," France stood, taking the umbrella with him, "I think that something must be done about that."

England turned red and stood as France's eyes sparkled with amusement, "I'm not kissing you in public, and in the sodding rain, no less!"

"Quite sorry," France apologized even as he drifted closer, "I would never want to impose."

"You better be sorry, git." And, unless France's imagination was acting up again, England seemed to be leaning closer too.

"_Bien sûr, mon chéri_." France's words ghosted over England's lips, before completely capturing them and proceeding to drop the umbrella.

They both were horribly sick the next week, but neither regretted it.

* * *

That was painful. I just can't write fruk. I try so hard, but I just can't write it. I'm sorry.

But regardless, I hope you enjoyed this.

Translationwise, it's mostly endearments, but "Bien sûr" means "of course".

Next is "You can be the sun wen it is shines in the morning", which will most likely be giripan


End file.
